


The Fourth Musketeer

by distant_rose



Series: Little Pirates [8]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Swan Children, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Future Fic, Kid Fic, Later-in-life pregnancy, Meddling Kids, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 13:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11231541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distant_rose/pseuds/distant_rose
Summary: After her horrendous pregnancy with her daughter, Emma Swan was pretty set on not having anymore kids…or so she thought.





	The Fourth Musketeer

**Author's Note:**

> I owe someone out there a Beth/Gideon fic and I was working on it rather diligently until my laptop decided to die and I lost a big chunk of it. It was 5,000 words and I only saved like 3,700 of them so I decided to take a break because I was so angry. During that break, I was talking to @welpthisishappening (as par the course with me) and during a conversation, we somehow created a fourth Jones sibling for the Little Pirates ‘verse, which through a monkey wrench because I had all of their lives mapped out and now I have to redo a huge chunk to make up for this cutie that we came up with. (I’m really not mad, if anything more amused because I get to play around with this universe more.) Anyway, @welpthisishappening is entirely to to blame for this monster right here, which I both love and hate her for.

It all started at Granny’s when they had to meet her parents and siblings for dinner. The joint Charming-Jones clan was big enough to warrant a second table being tacked onto their booth and the kids were banished to the secondary table while Emma sat between Killian and Henry. The kids, for once, were getting along and minding their own business. They all seemed to be focused on Emma’s younger sister Ruthie, watching as she began to draw on her placemat with more artistic skill at six years old than Emma had in her entire life. None of them seemed to notice anxious energy surrounding Snow and David, but Emma had picked it up almost as soon as she walked into the dinner. Her parents were looking at them with nervous smiles, their hands interlaced tightly on the table.

“So…we have news…” Snow started somewhat nervously.

“Very exciting but unexpected news,” David clarified giving Snow’s hand a squeeze in support.

“Okay…I will have to be the judge of that, but I can’t necessarily tell you if it’s exciting and unexpected if I don’t know what it is,” Emma replied, giving them both an impatient look that blatantly expressed her desire for them to just come out with it. She had never been very good at guessing games.

“Well, umm…we’re pregnant again,” Snow announced with a somewhat self-conscious smile. “It’s a bit of a surprise, but we’re happy about it.”

“That’s awesome, Grandma!” Henry laughed, leaning over to brush his hand against theirs because he couldn’t necessarily hug them while being trapped in the booth by his mother and stepfather.

“Congratulations both of you,” Killian replied before Emma could even comprehend fully what her mother had said. “How far along are you?”

“Twelve weeks,” Snow replied.

Her small smile grew before Emma’s eyes until it was beaming. David’s expression matched hers; his own smile dazzling and so big that the corners of his eyes crinkled a bit. Emma couldn’t remember the last time that she saw them smile like that. Fuck, her mother was actually glowing. She was the only pregnant woman that Emma knew who actually glowed when pregnant. Emma had always felt like fricking Emily Rose from that weird exorcism movie that she watched on _On-Demand_ one time because it was free, especially with Beth. Her last pregnancy was horrible.

“You’re pregnant?” Emma croaked out before she could stop herself. She was still coming to grips with her mother’s announcement. She hadn’t been expecting it, especially since they were now either entering or currently in their forties, at least in a physical sense. They were getting a bit old to be handling babies.

“Bit slow on the uptake today, huh Swan?” Killian murmured in amusement as he wrapped his arm around Emma’s shoulders and placed a kiss on her temple.

And that’s when Emma saw it. 

There was a particular gleam in Killian’s blue eyes. Over the course of their marriage, Emma had learned that Killian was quite expressive with his emotions and had specific looks that expressed them. Her favorite was when he was feeling particularly naughty and the kids had made themselves scarce and he would look at her with smoldering eyes and a wicked smirk that promised absolute sin. However, he had other ones like when he was observing their children playing in the backyard where his entire face went soft and his eyes were tranquil or when he was irritated while reading in another language and he couldn’t remember the translation, and his eyes were narrow into hard points as they examined the text. The most common look these days however was an exasperated eye roll whenever one of the kids (mainly Wes if they were being honest) did something particularly careless and stupid like trying to hot-wire David’s truck.

This particular look, however, Emma had seen emerge just before their wedding when he had been playing with little Alexandra Herman and it was something she had become increasingly familiar with over the course of their nearly decade old marriage. It was a look very similar to the softness he had for their little trio of pirates but it held more yearning and more wistfulness and it always ended up being entirely focused on Emma. It was a look that so clearly said “I want a baby.”

Dreaded pirate captain was a title he once treasured, but Emma knew that Killian Jones did not covet any position more than he coveted being Daddy. He loved being a father and everything it entailed from checking for monsters under the bed to torturing their little ones with tickling fingers while snuggling on the couch. Killian had their pediatrician on speed dial and was dangerously close to being a bubble wrap dad. He knew exactly how to make mac and cheese the same way that Granny did because that’s all Harrison would eat once upon a time when he was smaller. He knew all the names of Beth’s pirate stuffed animal army from Captain Bear to Gertie. He also knew exactly how many blankets Wes needed to fall asleep and how to arrange them so their little blonde boy was snuggled up like a burrito. Killian lived and breathed to be Daddy.

And now, without even saying a word and just by looking at him, Emma knew that he wanted another little one to add to their little crew. He wanted to add a fourth musketeer.

It terrified her.

It wasn’t that Emma was entirely against the idea of more kids. Quite the opposite. There was nothing more attractive than Killian Jones holding a baby, especially if said baby had his pointed ears and smile as all three of their little pirates did. Making that image a reality had its appeal, but pregnancy sucked. Each and every one of her pregnancies had been taxing and, for lack of a better term, an event. For Henry, she had given birth in prison. Harrison had been so large that he had nearly ripped her open. Wes had been a breach baby. Beth had been nearly a month early and was almost born on the Jolly Roger. As much as she loved her kids, she hated pregnancy with a capital H. Killian would never pressure her and he had been gracious when Emma said that Beth would be their last, but she hated disappointing him.

The look in his eye didn’t leave for a second that night, but Killian made no mention or hint towards the subject of babies to Emma. He did, however, pepper Snow with questions on their plans for the new baby, what the doctor’s recommendations for her health and how the kids coped with the announcement of their latest addition.

When they returned home and put the kids to bed, Emma waited for him to broach the topic but Killian merely kissed her forehead and picked up his book, some old tome in Latin, to read while she turned on the television to watch the latest trash television show on ABC.

The “baby look” (as Emma took to calling it) and the lack of discussing children continued on into the next week. Emma watched as he stared more wistfully at infants in carriages and made silly faces at toddlers in Granny’s Diner to keep them entertained. She nearly lost her shit when he offered to hold a young haggard-looking mother’s baby in the grocery store as she loaded her purchases onto the conveyor belt, cooing and bouncing the child as he did so.

Watching the scene made Emma’s biological clock scream at her, reminding her that she was nearing the end of the fourth quarter fertility-wise. She was well aware that she was about to hit the two-minute warning; her forty-first birthday was about to approach in the upcoming months. They really needed to talk before Emma’s ovaries overrode her brain and she did something drastic.

* * *

“Okay, Killian. Out with it,” Emma snapped abruptly that night as they prepared for bed.

Her husband blinked at her in surprise, obviously not expecting the outburst. He gave her a puzzled look as he closed his book and gave her his undivided attention.

“Out with what, Swan?” he asked with a small frown.

“You’ve been acting…different since Mom’s…announcement and you’ve got that look going. That look when you want something…something that we’ve discussed several times.”

“If you already know what I want, then why do you need me to say it, Emma?” he asked her, running his hands through his hair. 

She quietly sucked on her teeth when he used her actual name instead of his patented “Swan.” It meant they had crossed over into the realm of a serious conversation and Emma wasn’t entire sure she was prepared for it.

“Because I need to hear you say it, Killian…” she said it so quietly that for a moment she wasn’t sure that he heard her.

“You want hear me say it? You want to have this conversation?” Killian clarified with a furrow of his brow. “Because I was pretty certain that this conversation was done nearly five years ago and you weren’t interested in opening up again and I sure as hell am not interested in starting a fight.”

“Just say it!” she commanded, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I want another kid, Emma,” he stated softly. “I want another kid so badly it hurts, but I know you don’t so I didn’t think it was up for debate.”

“It’s not that I don’t want another kid,” Emma started and before she could properly think about it, she began blurting out nearly every thought she had on the issue. “Want is not an issue. If the whole process of pregnancy, childbirth and childrearing was easy, I would give you as many kids as possible because you’re the best goddamn father in the world, but that’s not the issue here. We have three children. Three wonderful, demanding, wild, crazy children. I love them with everything I got, but bringing them into this world wasn’t easy. Pregnant in my thirties was tough enough, I cannot imagine how tough it would be now. Especially with all the risks. Birth defects, still births and miscarriages are much more of a risk now than they’ve ever been…I’m not sure I could survive that…not to mention, we’re old. I hate to say it, sailor, but we’re going a bit gray,” Emma finished. 

Her fingers dug into the flesh of her palms as she recited all the information that she looked up on the internet while she had been sitting in the Bug on stakeout this afternoon. She was pretty sure her palms were bleeding, but she ignored it. 

“I know the risks, love. You’re not the only one who knows how to use Google anymore. Yeah, there are risks, but with age, we are older, wiser and we’ve now been around the block a few times. Hell, we now know how to handle a kid who knows how to start cars without keys. Look, Swan, I’m happy. I love our kids and they’re more than enough, but I’m never going to stop wanting more children with you because what we make is perfection, though sometimes that perfection is…a bit rough on the edges…but any child with you as a mother couldn’t be anything less than perfection…”

“You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?” Emma said softly, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She hadn’t expected to get this emotional during this conversation, but he always knew what buttons to press to get a response from her. She both loved and hated him for it. “It’s almost not fair…”

“It’s not fair,” he agreed. “But I want nothing more than a little girl with blonde hair and green eyes. I want a little Swan.”

“You have Beth,” Emma chuckled wetly. “And she would take that statement as an ultimate betrayal.”

“Or she would be excited at the prospect of being an older sister and having someone to boss around,” he countered.

“Beth? Our Beth? We talking about the same girl? Because she would hate the idea of being an older sister, especially to another girl. She would have a fit because that means she won’t be Daddy’s special little girl anymore and she would have to share you.”

“She already shares me with Henry, Harrison and Wes,” Killian scoffed.

“Your relationship with our daughter is very different than the ones you have with our sons and that’s fine. This isn’t a criticism because I honest to God love that you two are so close, but yeah, you have very different with her than you are with the boys. She knows it and she loves it. She wouldn’t want to share it,” Emma replied with a shake of her head.

“Sharing is a part of life though,” Killian responded with a heavy sigh, refusing to acknowledge Emma’s commentary on the nature of his relationship with their daughter, not that she expected him to. Killian, who prided himself on being a good father to all of their children, did not want to acknowledge the idea of possible (most definite) favoritism. She could understand that. It wasn’t particularly the nicest thing to come to terms with.

“It is,” Emma agreed with a sigh. “But before we discuss this further, I need you to ask yourself this…Are you sure you really want to go all the new baby nonsense again? Sleepless nights? Spit up? Changing diapers? Messiness? A good few months without sex? Going through potty training again? Yes, potty training, you remember that nightmare, right? Not to mention, I would be out of commission for a few months with a new baby. Money really isn’t an issue for us, and yes, we can convert the office back into a nursery, but do you think you can handle being interim sheriff? And deal with the dwarves on your own without killing them? Be professional without me and without my Dad because I doubt he wants to leave the farm this time around? And if the answer to any of those questions is no, this conservation has to end now.”

Killian’s eyebrows rose at her words and Emma watched as his mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. If the conversation they were having wasn’t so serious, Emma would have laughed at the fact she had rendered her normally verbose husband speechless.

“Swan…are you saying that this is actually on the table? That you’re actually considering this? This isn’t just all hypotheticals?”

“I’m asking you if you’ve really thought about this beyond the baby fever nostalgia and remembered how shitty taking care of a baby is both figuratively and literally, and if that’s something you’re willing to do still while we’re getting old…fuck, we would be the oldest parents at high school graduation.”

“No, Snow and Dave will be there right beside us with their little one. Our child would automatically have a playmate there. As for the challenges, yes, I have thought about it, but any challenge, any struggle and yes, all the sleepless and sexless nights are worth it. Even if we get another hellion with a penchant for chaos, it would still be worth it because there’s nothing in the world that’s better than having children with you and I mean that with every fiber of my being.”

“Okay…” Emma replied, letting out a heavy breath. She couldn’t think of a legitimate response. She was feeling a bit tongue tied at the moment.

“Okay?” Killian repeated with a hint of inquiry, leaning forward a bit. “You never said whether you were seriously considering this…but what do you say, Swan, we give it one last good try…?” His voice trembled a bit on the last few words and he was looking at her with something akin to desperation.

And that was the question there, wasn’t it? Did she want to give it “one last good try” and all that it entailed? It meant commitment. It meant genetic disorder screening, prenatal vitamins, fertility shots, specialists, possible treatments and a horde of doctors telling her that late in life pregnancy was far from ideal with high statistics on everything going wrong. No, she didn’t want any of that hassle. It was too much. However, the image of Killian playing with the baby in the grocery store was burned into her mind. Though she couldn’t get herself to say it out aloud, Emma privately admitted to herself that she loved and even wanted to see him hold another child while softly singing sea shanties and whispering stories about his days on the Jolly Roger while he thought Emma wasn’t listening.

“No, I don’t want to try,” she said softly and she watched his face crumble for a moment before he was capable of masking his disappointment. It was that final look that affirmed her decision.

Emma moved forward and opened the top drawer of her nightstand. She bent down on her knees and began riffling a bit through the junk before finding her birth control pills. She could almost physically feel the weight of Killian’s eyes as on her as she picked up the foil package and lifted them up so he could see them.

“Emma…what are you doing?” he asked quietly.

She ignored him as she stood back up and walked towards their bathroom with a sense of purpose. She pushed the door open and made a deliberate choice not to close it. She stood next to the toilet and looked back at her husband who had scrambled to the edge of the bed, obviously wondering to himself what the hell she was doing. The lines of his forehead had never looked so pronounced.

“Emma…?” This time his voice was louder and the silent question more present.

Emma closed her eyes for a moment, steeling her nerves. When she opened them, she looked Killian straight in the eye as she deliberately dropped her birth control pills in the toilet and flushed. Once more, her husband opened his mouth to say something but was speechless. Emma had never seen him more confused in her life.

“I don’t want to try.” Emma repeated with a sigh, “but I don’t want to not try…or at least I don’t want to try to prevent it. Trying means doctors, treatments and I know you…you will look up ever old wives’ tale about fertility and probably eat a huge fucking lemon whole just to make yourself more fertile or some nonsense like that…I don’t want the hassle…but if it happens…and that’s a big “if” because like I said, we’re old…then it happens and I would be okay with that, but if it doesn’t happen, don’t beat yourself up about it because, you’re right, we make some amazing kids and we already have three good ones down the hall. Okay?”

“Okay,” he replied softly and now, he had tears in his eyes and a smile so hopeful that it made Emma’s heart ache.

He opened his arms, gesturing for her to come to him and she nearly sprinted into them. They both started to laugh and cry at the same time as they embraced, holding each other so tightly that Emma was sure they were going to give each other bruises. Killian wiped at her tears and began to kiss every inch her face, still chuckling between each one.

“Tell me this isn’t a dream…” Killian murmured against her hair and Emma got the impression that he was trying to hide the fact he was legitimately crying now by burying his face in her hair.

“It’s not a dream,” she murmured, running her hands down his back in a soothing gesture. “But it’s also not a guarantee. We agreed to not try but not prevent, remember?”

“I know, I know, Swan,” he murmured, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the apple of her cheek.

He captured her lips with his in a brief but intense kiss that was full of promise. He pulled her close until he had firmly slotted himself between her thighs, his hips rolling against hers. Emma couldn’t stop the soft sigh that escaped her lips and she moved to run her fingers through his hair, dragging her nails lightly against his scalp in the way she knew he liked. He replied to the gesture with a deep groan that rumbled in his chest and his eyes were dark as he pulled away.

“If you don’t mind, I would like to start this “not trying” business right now…” Killian murmured against her lips.

“No one is stopping you, especially not me,” she replied softly.

Before she had even finished her sentence, she found herself on her back with a very amorous Killian Jones hovering above her. He captured her lips in another fierce kiss that held more emotion that Emma knew what to deal with. Giving her bottom lip once last nip, he changed courses; his nose brushing a sure line along her jaw as he worked teeth and tongue torturously against her skin. He nuzzled his head against her throat before worrying his lips against the pulse point in her neck.

“I love you…” Killian whispered it so quietly that she almost didn’t hear it.

“I love you too,” she whispered back and she hooked a leg around his waist, knocking her hips against his. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he replied, biting gently. “Never, ever.”

Killian had always been a thorough and attentive lover; it was one of Emma’s favorite things about him. However, he was extra zealous in his efforts that night and there was a renewed sense of purpose that seemed to power each caress, kiss and thrust. It was as if he was physically trying to will a child into existence with every fiber of his being despite Emma’s insistence of “what will be will be.” When they finished in a sweaty boneless heap of limbs, Emma caught him absently worrying his thumb against her abdomen as his eyes fluttered shut and he rested his head against her shoulder.

* * *

As Emma predicted, it wasn’t that easy. Even after months of vigorous and almost embarrassingly near-constant lovemaking, there was nothing. Emma watched as her mother’s stomach swelled and hers remained stubbornly flat. She tried not to feel bitter when Snow gave birth to another boy while her own womb was empty. Though she knew that it wasn’t going to be an automatic success in the same way her other children seemed to be, she privately became fearful that their no longer subtle efforts would be fruitless and wondered if their kids could sense the unspoken disappointment and desperation growing between them.

Worse, Emma was starting to wonder if she was menopausal. Over the course of the months, her periods had gotten lighter and less regular. She hadn’t bled in early two months, but she also hadn’t felt any of other pregnancy symptoms that she had with her other kids. With the boys, she had incredibly sharpened senses and near constant queasiness. With Beth, the symptoms had been amplified to the point where she had barricaded herself in the bathroom due to the near constant vomiting and diarrhea. 

Now, she was just tired and dizzy, which unfortunately led to her being short with everyone including her kids. She had yelled at Wes the other day so heatedly that she thought her normally cool-as-a-cucumber son would be reduced to tears. Emma knew she had gone too far when Harrison embraced his younger brother afterwards. As long as they had been alive, Harrison and Wes had never had the best relationship, but that day she saw Harrison captured his little brother in a hug and look at her like she was an alien. Emma Swan had never felt like a bigger asshole than she did in that moment. She was a terrible mother and maybe it was best that she didn’t expose another innocent child to her shitty parenting skills.

She couldn’t bring herself to tell Killian her suspicions; she didn’t have it in her heart to crush the dream. She did, however, book an appointment with their family doctor to confirm the fact that at forty-one years old she had entered early menopause just as she was just getting around to the idea that she actually really wanted another kid as badly as her husband did. The irony was not lost on her.

“You’re not menopausal,” her doctor stated bluntly as she looked at the results of her blood test. “Your estradiol levels are normal. If you were going into early menopause, they would have greatly decreased. Your estriol levels are pretty high though. Dollars to doughnuts, you’re pregnant, Emma.”

“What?” Emma blinked.

“You’re pregnant. This shouldn’t be such a surprise. You haven’t been using any form of prophylactics, you’re sexually active and you’re in relatively good shape. I have less concerns for you than I did for your mother with Robbie, however I do have to remind you that being pregnant in your forties is risky business and you’re more likely to run into complications such as Down’s syndrome and pre-eclampsia.”

“I can’t be pregnant. I’ve had no other symptoms. No vomit. No smells or cravings. Not even sore boobs. None of the usual mess,” she replied in disbelief.

“Not every pregnancy is the same, Emma. You know this. Sometimes not all symptoms present themselves. It happens. Regardless of symptoms or no symptoms, blood doesn’t lie. Your estrogen levels are through the roof. I would like to take an AFP, HCG and a hormone inhibin A test, if that’s okay with you? Maybe even an ultrasound?”

“Yeah…” Emma croaked, still in shock. She had prepared herself for the worst and now her doctor was telling her she was pregnant. It felt like she was in a fever dream.

Emma ended up leaving the doctor’s office in a daze, barely holding onto the tiny ultrasound photo in her hands. When she had come to her doctor this morning, she had done so with the expectation that her doctor was about to tell her that she was entering menopause and her baby making days were behind her. Now, she was leaving with the knowledge that she was eleven weeks pregnant with a baby the size of a fig and said fig had come up healthy on the test screenings so far. Praise the Gods for small blessings on that front.

Shit, what was she going to tell her kids? Killian was a non-issue; he would be through the roof with excitement over the news. Her kids who had no knowledge of the fact their parents were trying without really trying to get pregnant over the last six months were another issue entirely. Henry would be okay with it. He was grown, out of the house and very much focused on his own life. Harrison would be okay, he would probably give them a bit of lip but he would get over it fairly quickly. Wes and Beth? Their reactions would be anyone’s guess, but Emma was preparing herself for the Apocalypse. A meltdown of epic proportions was in her future and she could feel it.

Her husband and kids were on all couch, yelling and playing some racing video game on the big screen when Emma arrived home. She stuffed the ultrasound photo into her pocket and observed them for a moment, gathering her bearings. Killian, who was still getting used to using the one-handed game controller that Henry had gotten him for Christmas, was in last place with Beth in third. Wes and Harrison are neck-and-neck with Killian indiscriminatingly sending them complications from his last place position in hopes of letting Beth gain the lead.

“I win!” Harrison shouted.

Harrison thrusted his fist into the air in victory as his character crossed the finish line ahead of Wes’s character which had spun out to the side and allowed Beth to gain second place. Killian, in an act of fatherly selflessness, paused his character to allow Wes to finish in front of him.

“That’s because Dad kept blue shelling me,” Wes grumbled, tossing his controller and crossing his arms in front of his chest. Her youngest son was incredibly sore loser as they had long since learned.

“Nothing against you, lad, but I was trying to give your sister a fighting chance for once,” Killian replied, dropping the controller in order to ruffle Wes’s blonde hair. 

Ever the tough guy, Wes tried his best to wriggle away from his father, but Killian caught him and decided to up the ante by giving the boy big, loud, smoochy kisses. Wes protested loudly and Emma couldn’t help but smile at the scene, her hand subconsciously resting upon her stomach. He was such a good father. This new kid was going to be so well loved.

Beth caught sight of her first. Her eyes lit upon seeing Emma standing by the door. She immediately scurried off the couch, running towards Emma until she had wrapped her arms around Emma’s knees. Beth looked up at Emma with a delighted grin and little gurgling giggles emitted from her throat.

“Hi Mommy!” Beth greeted sweetly.

“Hey kid,” Emma replied with a small laugh, running her hands through her daughter’s long dark hair. The girl’s wild mane was forever tangled and Emma did her best to work through the knots.

“Swan,” Killian greeted with a small smile, still holding a squirming Wes against him.

“Mom! Help me!” Wes cried out dramatically, making Emma laugh harder. Their current youngest son had a flare for the dramatics and Emma wasn’t sure if it was genetic or something he learned from watching Killian.

“Resistance is futile. She won’t help you,” Harrison grinned wickedly, leaning forward to tickle Wes’s ribs as Killian held him in place. “No one will save you now, Westley.”

“Actually, I do need to borrow your father for a moment,” Emma said with a small smile before looking down into her daughter’s bright eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Is Daddy in trouble?” Beth asked curiously.

“No, Daddy is not in trouble, but Mommy and Daddy need to talk,” Emma replied, tapping the end of Beth’s nose with her finger gently. Her daughter scrunched her face in response to the tap and Emma never realized how many freckles her daughter had until that moment.

“She said ‘need to talk’!” Wes exclaimed in stage-whisper to Harrison. “Dad is so in trouble!”

“Dog house,” Harrison said in agreement.

“Daddy’s in trouble! Daddy’s in trouble! Daddy’s in trouble!” Beth began to chant in a sing-a-long voice, the boys joining in as she got louder.

Emma sighed and brought a hand up to bury her face in. Maybe having another kid wasn’t the best idea they had ever had. They could barely control the three they had as it was.

“Alright, alright,” Killian sighed as he released his hold on Wes who immediately moved to tackle his much larger brother. “That’s enough from the peanut gallery. Mom and I are going to go talk, please do not burn down the house or commit any ritual animal sacrifices while we’re gone, aye?”

“We will do our best,” Harrison responded with a shrug as he successfully pulled Wes off of him. 

It was almost comical how little effort Harrison put into fending himself off from his younger brother. They were the closest in age out of their brood with only fourteen months between them, but they couldn’t have been more different from each other like day and night. Emma privately wondered what the unborn child inside her would be like when it finally made its appearance. Intelligent and kind like Henry? Strong and gentle like Harrison? Wily and witty like Wes? Fearless and commanding like Beth? Or would it be something else entirely?

“But we make no promises,” Wes tacked on, rubbing at the bruise that was beginning to form on his left cheek from being tossed by his brother like a ragdoll.

“Naturally,” Killian replied dryly. “I wouldn’t have expected any less.”

Emma reached down to give their daughter a brief kiss before meeting her husband’s eyes and tilting her head towards the stairs in hopes he would get the hint. He nodded in response and gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She reached for his hand as they climbed the stairs, intertwining their fingers and giving his hand a squeeze in solidarity, trying to tell him without words that everything was going to be alright.

Killian sighed and ran a hand through his hair as she closed the door to their bedroom behind them. The smile on his face was positively nervous and it was clear that he, like their children, thought he was in some sort of trouble despite her reassurances otherwise.

“Alright, Swan, what is it? Whenever someone says the words “need to talk”, nine times out of ten I’m not going have a good conversation,” Killian replied, sitting on the bed and looking up at her expectantly.

“Like I said before, you’re not in trouble. So I guess this is the one instance out of your ten scenario,” Emma replied, playing with her hair as her nerves started to get the best of her. “I thought this was going to be easy, but honestly, I feel so unprepared and finding out about it kinda put me in a daze so I apologize for not coming up for a cute way of telling you but…”

She pulled the sonogram out from her back pocket and nearly shoved it into Killian’s chest. Surprised, Killian took the photograph into his hands automatically and Emma watched as he took in exactly what he was holding, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

“Swan, is this what I think it is?” Killian asked, breathlessly.

“Yeah…” she replied, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face so wide that her cheeks hurt. “Congratulations, Dad. The fourth horseman of the Apocalypse is on his way.”

“Her way,” he corrected absentmindedly as he studied the sonogram. “It could be a girl. Why didn’t you tell me that you thought you were pregnant, Swan?”

“Because I didn’t know,” she replied with a small laugh. “When I made the appointment, it was because I thought I was menopausal. My period stopped but I didn’t have any pregnancy symptoms and I didn’t want to tell you because I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to disappoint you because I knew how much you wanted this baby…And well, I’m definitely not menopausal because you’re holding actual photographic evidence that there is a eleven-week old fig inside of me right now…a healthy eleven-week old fig…”

Killian dropped the sonogram on the bed and pulled her to him, arms wrapped around her in a vice grip. Emma pushed her fingers into his hair, caressing the soft strands as Killian rested his head between her breasts for a moment before dropping to his knees so that he was eye-level with her stomach. With misty eyes, he placed a kiss against her lower abdomen. Emma felt her heart triple in size as she watched him.

“Hello there…” he whispered to her belly as he pulled away. “I know you’ve been around for awhile and we haven’t spoken yet, which is awfully rude of me but in our defense, we didn’t know about you, however, allow me to make amends by introducing myself. I am Daddy and the delightful creature who are you’re inside right now is Mommy. We love you very much and we’re very excited to meet you.”

Emma had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry, but that promise was broken as she listened to her husband talk to the unborn little pirate inside of her. It had made all six months of trying but not trying completely worth it. She didn’t think it was possible to love Killian anymore than she did in that moment.

“How are we going to tell the kids?” Emma murmured as she continued to play with his hair.

“I don’t think that will be a problem, Swan,” Killian replied with a chuckled, looking up at her with some mirth in his eyes. “Because I’m pretty sure we have three of the world’s worst eavesdroppers standing outside our door listening to each and every word. Isn’t that right, Jones crew?”

There was a loud creak and hushed whispering from outside their door. Emma groaned, taking her hands out of Killian’s hair and rubbing her eyes. For the second time that night, she wondered if bringing a fourth child into the fold was a good idea.

Killian got off his knees and kissed the top of Emma’s head as he rose to his full height. He immediately went over to the door and opened it, exposing their three sheepish-looking children.

“How did you know we were there?” Wes asked, looking very impressed with his father.

“Because I’ve been living in this house longer than you’ve been alive,” Killian remarked before tapping his foot on the floorboard beneath Beth’s foot. “And I know that board creaks when stepped on. Valiant effort I must say, but a very rookie mistake. It’s not polite to listen in on other people’s conversations. Mom and I were having a very adult conversation that wasn’t for your ears.”

“Is Mom really having a baby?” Wes asked bluntly, ignoring his father’s lecture.

“Yes. Mom’s pregnant,” Killian affirmed with a sigh.

“Jeez, another one? You think you guys would have learned after having these two,” Harrison remarked, jutting his thumb in the direction of his younger siblings.

Wes let out an offended squawk and hit Harrison between the ribs while Beth, who had been looking at her parents with the most betrayed look, burst into angry tears. Both Killian and Emma sucked in a breath. In the haze of emotions, they hadn’t prepared themselves for a round of Hurricane Elizabeth.

“I don’t want a baby, Daddy!” she cried, stamping her foot.

“Why not, minnow?” Killian asked gently, getting on his knees so he was eye-level with their five-year old. “Don’t you want to be a big sister?”

“No!” she shrieked, giving another stamp with her foot. “I don’t want a baby! You have us! There’s three of us! You don’t need it! You don’t need another baby! You have me! You have me! I’m your baby!”

Emma sighed as she leaned against the doorway looking down at her daughter having an absolute meltdown. Well, this reaction was predictable. Killian looked up at her with a helpless expression, not sure how to respond to Beth’s tantrum. Harrison and Wes watched in fascinated interest as their sister’s face turned purple.

“Hey, hey…” Killian murmured, soothing Beth’s shoulders in hopes of quelling her tantrum. “This is exciting. You get someone new to play with. Maybe she will even play pirates with you and help you terrorize your brothers and you won’t be so out-numbered. That would be fun, right?”

“No because then I wouldn’t be the Pirate Queen!” Beth cried harder, tears dribbling down her cheeks in earnest.

Killian’s brow furrowed, obviously not following his five-year old’s logic.

“And why is that?”

“Because there can only be one and you’ll want us to share and there can’t be two Pirate Queens, Daddy. There just can’t!” she explained as if it were obvious.

“Says who?” Killian asked, squeezing her shoulders.

“Everyone,” Beth replied seriously. “There can be only one, Daddy. Everyone says so.”

“Good to know someone’s been watching Highlander,” Emma remarked with a chuckle before joining Killian on her knees to get to Beth’s level. 

He was doing a shit job at damage control. For someone so close was to their daughter, he didn’t seem to understand the root of the problem. Beth didn’t want another child to ruin the dynamic and hierarchy that already been established, especially when it came to her father’s affections where she was number one as the only girl and the youngest.

“I know this is scary and new, but it’s also exciting, Little Beth,” Emma said, tugging a strand of hair behind Beth’s ear. “The new baby isn’t going to replace you, I promise. We are still going to love you and your new baby brother is going to love you so much. I guarantee he is going to follow you around and want to be just like you because you’re such an awesome sister.”

Both boys snorted at the statement and Emma gave them both a withering look that made them both step back a bit.

“Baby sister,” Killian corrected.

“Oh no, this one is definitely a boy. A dark haired, blue eyed boy. I can feel it,” Emma replied with a smirk.

“Care to wager on that feeling, Swan? Because fatherly intuition says it’s a blonde haired, green eyed girl,” Killian responded, raising his eyebrows at her.

“What do you say, Little Beth, should we wager a full month’s worth of diaper changing and ice cream on a boy? Since fatherly intuition doesn’t exist and Daddy is full of crap?” Emma remarked, pulling Beth to her side.

“If there’s ice cream involved, I want in on this,” Wes remarked, joining Emma’s side. “And I’m Team Brother because one Beth is enough.”

At his words, Beth looked positively offended and with the maturity of any five-year-old, she stuck out her tongue at Wes. Emma sighed and mentally counted to ten.

“Traitors,” Killian admonished his youngest children without much heat. “The two of you are traitors.”

“Sorry, Daddy, but there can be only one Pirate Queen,” Beth replied, not sounding the least bit remorseful.

Harrison who had been quietly observing for the majority of the squabble took that moment to join his father’s side, looking at Emma with apologetic eyes as he placed a hand on Killian’s shoulder.

“I’m Team Sister because the world cannot handle another Wes Jones.”

“You’re right,” Wes said with a smirk. “The world cannot handle any more of this kind of awesome.”

“Well, that’s definitely a word for it,” Harrison muttered under his breath.

“Alright, enough with the witty banter. It really gets tiring after a while,” Emma huffed. “The stakes of the wager are as follows, an entire month of diaper duty carried out by the losing party. Kid or kiddos on the winning party get ice cream. We have ourselves a wager?”

“Aye, love, it’s a deal,” Killian replied, leaning forward and sealing their wager with a brief kiss that made all of their three children gag.

“Good because I’m going to make you eat your words because fatherly intuition does not exist,” Emma declared.

And in the end, she was right because six months later she gave birth to a son; a dark haired, blue eyed son whom they named Edward David Jones but affectionately called Ned. Emma practically cackled when they placed him in her arms, looking at her husband like the cat who ate the canary.

“You know what Neddy is telling me right now, Killian?” Emma asked, as she held her newborn son to her breast.

“What Swan?”

“That you and Harrison are going to have a lot of fun changing his shitty diapers.”


End file.
